


Fear

by ComfortableSilences



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Play, Bisexual Female Character, Dark, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, Enemies, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Femdom, Gangbang, Legilimency, Lesbian Sex, Lust Potion/Spell, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Oil, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Orgy, Prisoner of War, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Punishment, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Second War with Voldemort, Sexual Fantasy, Smut, Voyeurism, Wizarding Wars (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:25:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23020147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComfortableSilences/pseuds/ComfortableSilences
Summary: My submission to the HPKinkFest2020!My prompt below:Kink: Gang BangOne to three pairings (or 'any'): Hermione and Death EatersOptional Supplementary Prompt: Don't care if it makes sense, but Hermione should enjoy herselfSubmitted by: anonymousThis fic is quite dark and it does toy with the idea of consent, but it is not a rape fantasy. I would definitely agree with the tag dubious consent though!
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 29
Kudos: 332
Collections: HP Kinkfest 2020





	1. The Fear of Dying

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my contribution to the HPKinkFest2020!! 
> 
> There are times when this fic really toys with the idea of consent but I promise this is not a rape fantasy, and Hermione does indeed enjoy herself the whole time once any actual sexual activities begin. If you are seriously worried about the consent at the beginning I would advise you read on (Unless it is deeply triggering for you) - not everything is as it might seem. 
> 
> My original prompt was below:  
> Kink: Gang Bang  
> One to three pairings (or 'any'): Hermione and Death Eaters  
> Optional Supplementary Prompt: Don't care if it makes sense, but Hermione should enjoy herself  
> Submitted by: anonymous
> 
> To whoever requested this, I hope you like my take on it!

Hermione Granger was petrified of dying. Her soul losing its grip on her body like the soap suds currently sliding down the tan skin of her arm, giving one last grip before they fell uselessly back into the void of the bathwater. 

A single tear fell from her cheek and rippled the water surrounding her chest. She hadn’t even realised she had been crying.

She immediately stood from the water, letting the physical emotion slip from her body like the water slipping down her smooth legs, taking the soap with it. Somehow, standing naked in the room was less vulnerable than the dampness of her cheeks. 

The two girls came to her with towels, washing the remainder of the water and the suds from her skin. She could stop herself from crying, but she couldn’t stop the weakness in her arms as they shook from her terror. She hoped the girls would assume she was cold from the bath, but the fire roared beside her and she knew she was a fraud. 

But, she had to be strong. Even as her heart punished her in her chest, thumping her ribcage screaming out its question, why aren’t you running? 

For the sake of the girls standing beside her, she lifted her head and stood tall. She was a war heroine, and she knew hope could be more powerful than anything, even if she herself had none. For Hermione Granger had discovered something much more terrifying than death. Waiting to die. 

‘Why haven’t they tried to kill me yet?’ her soft voice carried into the room, barely a whisper, but the girls drying her arms flinched, and came to a stop altogether. 

She turned her head and looked at one of them, but they were focused on each other. The one with the curly black hair stared fiercely at the little blonde girl to her left, while the girl looked back at her friend, pleading something silently with her eyes. Evidently the dark-eyed girl one, and they both remained silent as they finished with the towels. The brown-eyed girl seemed to be the oldest given she was taller and her features were less round and childish. She handed the blonde girl an emerald green glass bottle before she emptied some of the liquid inside onto her hands and rubbed it onto Hermione’s forearm.

She tried to pull her arm back from the girl, ‘What is tha..’ was all she could manage before her eyes started to dim the light entering her retina, confusing the scene in front of her. Both of their hands were now moving along her skin, sliding the oily substance onto every spare piece of flesh they could find. She tried to protest, tried to move but found her body unresponsive. 

‘I’m sorry,’ she didn’t know which one had said it, but it was the last sound to reverberate in her ears before everything went dark.


	2. The Fear of Desire

It was the pain in her spine that pulled her back into consciousness. With a groan she arched her back off the hard surface and let her vertebrae click back into place while her mind tried to connect the last twenty-four hours to see where she was. 

She’d been captured.

Her eyes sprang open at the realisation and her heart stopped. She was staring into morbid darkness. She sat up and instinctively checked her arms, the memory of her limbs failing her coming back into focus in her mind. She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed a sigh of relief, glad when her hand rubbed against her elbow. 

She took a moment to enjoy her victory before she let her fear settle again. This was it, this was when they were going to kill her. Or worse, interrogate then kill her. She felt her body shiver beneath her hands, the cold air in the room causing goosebumps along her skin. They weren’t even going to allow her the decency of clothes. Was she even supposed to be awake? Maybe whatever potion they gave her was supposed to last longer than this?

She laid her palms flat on the surface under her, feeling around in the hope she could find a door, an object, just something. She hadn’t quite given up on getting out of there. Her fingers curled around an edge and she frowned, following the edge around her, feeling the circular platform she seemed to be on. 

Manic laughter echoed through the walls in the distance. She knew that laughter. Her heart leapt up into her throat. 

Bellatrix Lestrange. 

That cackle haunted her nights when she could nearly feel the weight of the woman straddling her chest, her breath on her face, her wild hair tickling her cheek. She froze. It was getting closer. 

She instinctively laid back down on the table before the door burst open, its hinges screeched in shock at the sudden movement. The void behind her eyelids warmed to an orange glow and she dared peek out. 

It was no use. All that she could see was the chandelier above her, the light from the candles repulsing her eyes so accommodated to the dark. 

She tried to keep her body still as she heard footsteps entering the room. Lots of footsteps. Her heart slammed in her chest as she tried to squint her eyes past the blaring light, the only thing she could make out was a decorative letter M, lined with gold built out from the pattern in the ceiling. 

She was almost certain she was at Malfoy Manor. Only the Malfoy’s had such an ingrained sense of self-importance they would imprint it on the very plaster in the ceiling. 

The footsteps stopped, and she slammed her eyes completely closed. The only noise she heard for a moment was the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears. She had the most indescribable feeling, like how she imagines an antelope might feel when it hears soft ruffling in the grass behind it. 

She could feel the predator moving closer as if she could feel it’s movements in the vibrations of the platform underneath her. Slowly slithering, scales sliding against the sleek surface of the wood. She tried her best to keep her breathing even, pretending to sleep in the aftermath of the potion applied to her skin, but it betrayed her with the invisible breath on the back of her neck, the swipe of a forked tongue against her cheek only in her mind. 

She could have sworn she heard a slight hiss, and she took what milliseconds she had to mentally prepare herself for death. She was unsuccessful.

It struck, and her spine curled off the platform once again, her eyes flinging open to the blinding pain. The snake wrapped itself around her brain stem and forced her mind open. It was then she saw him in her head, the snake’s red eyes burning through her defences as though they were made with mist.

‘Harry,’ Voldemort whispered into her mind, repeated like a mantra through dozens of voices out of time. At the mention of her best friend’s name, she pulled her strength together, blocking him from any memory of Harry or the Order. 

She put every last defence into keeping him out of that section of her mind, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth to stop herself from screaming from the fire raging. She imagined a vault, deep down in the belly of Gringotts, a thousand locking mechanisms bolting the door shut, constantly changing. Adapting to each of the Dark Lord’s attacks. 

It worked. 

She saw him rebuked back in her mind, wraith-like cloak billowing around him as he hissed at her, red eyes flaming with rage. He swung his skeletal arm in front of his face, the fabric of his cloak obscuring him from view until it formed into a black smoke chaotically tearing through the rest of her mind. She couldn’t defend it, she needed to put all of her energy into the door. 

He riffled through all of her memories. Adopting Crookshanks, revising for exams, holidays with her parents. She could feel the sizzle of his disgust at the mention of her parents. But still, she kept him away from Harry and the Order bolted shut behind the vault door. 

‘I can see your deepest fear. You are afraid of dying,’ he whispered harshly into her consciousness. Hermione felt something against her shoulder, the contraction and release of muscles under scales travelling across her collarbone. She lifted her hand and felt where the creature was, she felt nothing but the smooth warmth of her own skin. 

It was in her mind, but that didn’t stop the terror she felt as it slithered around her throat, and began to constrict. She could still breathe, but the pressure on her neck was threatening.

‘You’re not just afraid of death, are you?’ 

He flashed her own memory back at her, and she saw herself lying on her bed in Hogwarts, her hand buried in the slick between her thighs. She knew this memory, had shoved it back into the depths of her mind. 

The shame of exposing something so private to Voldemort of all people raged in her chest, the entire memory tinted green under his influence. She watched her body clench around her fingers, succumbing under the attention of her thumb pressed into her clit. She watched her hips roll in time with each wave of pleasure that washed over her, then she watched as it flopped back down flat onto the bed. She pulled her fingers from her and clamped her legs shut, turning around on her bed to face the wall. Even from looking at the memory she felt the shame and disgust she felt that night building in her chest. 

‘Do you remember what you were thinking about?’ 

She refused to answer him, but she knew. 

‘Perhaps if I look again it might help,’ his voice slithered against her consciousness.

A new emerald memory flashed into light in front of her, and the blood drained from her body and rushed to her cheeks. 

She was older now, in his bedroom at the Burrow, on her knees in front of his bed. All she could see was the back of her head, bobbing up and down in his lap. She could feel Voldemort’s smug smile even if he hadn’t the lips to convey it properly. She watched her own hand lift Ron’s and place it at the back of her head, encouraging him to get involved. She knew what she had wanted in that moment, too involved in her own desire to feel ashamed of her request. 

She had wanted him to push down, to force her farther down onto his length, but he hesitated, then simply stroked her hair gently. She grabbed his arm again, and pushed it down onto her head, forcing his cock deeper into her throat until she gagged on it, hoping he would get the message. 

He didn’t.

‘Bloody hell, Hermione!’ he called out angrily, pulling his arm back and shifting himself farther up the bed. She lifted her head to look at him and she wished she hadn’t.

His eyes conveyed a mix of shock, horror and worst of all, fear. Like he had just seen her for something completely different than she was. She stood up before she could let his eyes upset her and she kissed him. It wasn’t long before she shoved the bad thoughts to the back of her head, letting her desire overtake her rational thought again. She broke the kiss and positioned herself next to him on all fours on his bed. Luckily this time he took the hint. He positioned himself behind her, and slowly sank into her. 

Her mouth opened in pleasure as she began to rock against him behind her, but he still took her gently. Too gently. He grabbed her hips and she smiled, hoping he would pull her against him roughly and hit that spot she only ever seemed to be able to coax out when she was alone. 

But he didn’t increase his speed, didn’t increase his pressure. He still touched her like she was made of glass. 

She started to get frustrated, and in her anger, she let loose the imagination she had held tight onto since that night at Hogwarts. Suddenly in her mind, there wasn’t only one man in the room with her, there were two. 

Of all the men she knew, it was Draco Malfoy she pictured on his knees in front of her. It was Malfoy who she imagined tilted up her chin with his long finger.

He smiled at her, that cruelest sort of smile he reserved for his worst taunts, ‘Open up, Granger.’ 

She moaned when she imagined opened her mouth and imagined his cock slipping into it. He grabbed her hair in a fist and shoved himself inside of her throat and held her there, withholding her breath. 

‘I always knew you were a dirty little thing, Granger.’ 

‘Harder Ron!’ Ron hardened his thrusts but only barely. 

‘Touch yourself for me. I want to see you come filled with two cocks,’ his cruel voice demanded. 

She reached down between her legs and circled her clit, forcefully pushing her ass against Ron, forcing him harder against her as she imagined she was bobbing up and down Malfoy’s cock, licking and sucking the head when Ron was deepest inside of her. 

‘Hermione…’ Ron started, attempting to pull back but it was too late.

Malfoy’s cock began swelling in her mind, spasming in her mouth as he filled it with his cum while he hissed above her, ‘Drink it, Granger.’

She began to whimper under the pressure of her own orgasm hitting her. She thought about holding Malfoy’s cum in her mouth while Ron reached his own completion behind her. 

‘That’s just how I like to see you, filled from both ends,’ Malfoy laughed cruelly as she rode the final waves of her orgasm before he disappeared back into her imagination. 

Reality began to sink in with each of Ron’s wheezed out breaths, ‘Merlin’s beard, Hermione, what the hell was that?’

She felt her shame turning in her stomach the same as if it had just happened. Except this was worse, this time she had an audience. The snake around her neck loosened its grip, and the pain in her head relaxed. 

He was no longer fighting to move farther in her brain, merely content to sit patiently in it. She allowed herself to feel more of the physical world, the pain in her back from lying on the hard surface, the cold air against her naked skin. She opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling, wondering for a moment if there was any human decency left in Tom Riddle that he retreated. 

Her lunacy was revealed when a low wild chuckle broke out through the room. She jolted upright and looked towards the sound. Standing a few metres away from her, was the man himself surrounded by figures in dark cloaks. 

‘I was going to interrogate and kill you,’ the lack of emotion in his voice terrified her as her fear washed over her renewed at the mention of death, ‘But I have been persuaded into another course.’

Hermione tried to cover her breasts with her arms, closing them around her chest protectively from the stares of the metal masks, ‘After all,’ he outstretched his hands and twisted his face in the closest thing to a smile he could, even if it was perverse, ‘what kind of way would that be to treat a war-heroine!’ He barely got the last words out before descending into a huffed kind of laugh that sounded more like a throaty hiss. The Death Eaters beside him followed suit, Bellatrix’s cackle raining out the loudest above them all. 

He spun around showing his back to her, letting his misty cloak sway around him. Then he stared at his soldiers in front of him, ‘But who of you shall complete the deed?’ the laughter died as quickly as it started. An unsettling silence fell over the room and suddenly it didn’t feel like Hermione was the only antelope anymore. 

One of the smallest Death Eaters stepped forward and removed its mask as it came. Behind the mask sat the mad eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange, looking up at her Dark Lord as though she was in awe of him, ‘I would do anything for you, Dark Lord,’ her eyes sprinted from him to Hermione, and she pulled her lips back in a lunatics smile that resembled more of a snarl, ‘Even sully myself with a Mudblood.’ 

Voldemort lifted a lifeless skeletal finger and pressed it against her chin, turning her head to face him. Their faces were entirely too close and the intimacy made Hermione uncomfortable. 

‘Bellatrix, my most devoted and loyal soldier. Take her this day as a reward, you have unfinished business after all,’ he smiled almost lovingly into her face, if the red slits of his eyes and cruel sharp teeth could ever carry love. Hermione felt the scars on her arm against her breasts and she swallowed. He was going to let that beast free on her again, and the hatred she felt in her gut for him was palpable. 

Bellatrix’ face lit up with menace as she turned her gaze back to Hermione, she could almost see her imagination dreaming up ways to torture and harm her flashing behind her dark eyes. She stood to take a step towards Hermione, ‘Just remember Bella, what we are trying to achieve.’ 

Her smile dampened, but she nevertheless curtsied towards Voldemort and skipped towards the table giggling as she came. She moved behind Hermione, grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her back flat onto the table, ‘just you sit still, little Mudblood, no one is coming to save you,’ she whispered breathing all over her face, chuckling lowly like she had just told a scandalous joke. 

‘Any volunteers?’ she heard Voldemort ask his followers. 

Hermione stared up defiantly at the upside-down Bellatrix leering over her. The woman was completely mad, but Hermione couldn’t deny that she was beautiful, plump lips twisted into a delighted smile, her high proud cheekbones sitting astride her huge but wild eyes. Hermione watched those eyes trail down her body to the arms covering her breasts, ‘oh this won’t do.’ Bellatrix reached forward, and Hermione blinked back in shock at the pale pounds pressing against her face, it was enough to distract her while Bellatrix grabbed Hermione’s wrists and pulled them beside her head, ‘Won’t do to hide my lovely artwork, would it?’ she leaned down to admire her own work, evidently finding it pleasing in her smile. Her dark eyes trailed their way down Hermione’s neck, landing on her chest heaving with anger. Bellatrix’s eyebrows shot up her forehead as she watched, ‘or to hide such a beautiful set of perky breasts,’ she spoke in such an exaggerated tone Hermione couldn’t tell her madness from sarcasm. She frowned up at the woman as she released one of Hermione’s wrists, and reached down to pinch one of the pink tips between her fingers, ‘must be cold in here.’

Hermione lifted her wrist and slapped the witch across her face, the world seemed to stand still as Bella’s head snapped to her right with the force. Hermione had put her all into that slap, and it must have hurt. She wondered for a moment if she had just impulsively done the worst possible thing she could have, had she just sentenced herself to death? She stared at the woman’s face, and to her surprise Bella didn’t frown, she didn’t get angry or curse her. She rolled her head back to face her and her blank face twisted into a perverted smile, she looked even more pleased with herself than she did before. She flashed her mad eyes wide at her, ‘such a shame they are wasted on a Mudblood.’ She was ready for her this time, when Hermione fought back she grabbed her wrists and slammed them down onto the table and giggled. She leaned her face down next to Hermione’s, ‘I do like them feisty,’ she whispered, her breath tickling along her cheek before she wiped her tongue across it possessively. Hermione tried to turn her head away from the woman, even to take her mind of the fact that as much as she wanted to scream in frustration, she could feel the blood beginning to pump between her legs. Bellatrix was treating her like a plaything and as much as she hated it, her body was a traitor. 

She tried to focus on what Voldemort was doing, staring at the back of his black robes flowing like smoke behind him as he walked up and down the line up of Death Eaters, ‘Then if I have no volunteers, I shall simply have to select those who proposed the idea.’

Three Death Eaters stepped forward, each adorned with an intricate but terrifying metal mask. The Dark Lord spun around to face her once more, smile outstretched too far to be human, like staring into the open jaws of a snake. The chosen Death Eaters began to lift their masks, and the Dark Lord held up a single bony finger, ‘No, don’t remove your masks quite yet.’ What worried Hermione was how he could see them, they were standing behind him. 

They dropped their gloved hands from their masks and began walking to the table. Hermione closed her eyes and tried to pretend none of this was happening. When she opened them she was met by three metal faces leering above her. 

‘Do you like their eyes on you?’ the Dark Lord whispered into her mind. 

She wanted to say she didn’t, she wanted to say she was repulsed and only repulsed. But the beating between her legs insisted, the hardening of her nipples and shortness of breath continued, and she couldn’t figure out why, because she was terrified. 

‘The oil applied to your skin,’ Voldemort answered the question she never asked. 

She barely had time to consider what he had said before she felt Bellatrix’s mouth at her ear, breathing against the sensitive flesh, ‘Do you want to play spin the bottle?’ she whispered, her soft lips caressing against the edges of her ear. Suddenly her presence was...different. The tiny hairs on her body prickled as the heat intensified between her legs. Bella howled with laughter as she gripped the table and pulled at it, sending Hermione’s vision into a circle of black, metal, and white. 

The table jerked underneath her and it stopped spinning, she was staring into the eyes of Bellatrix once more. What on Earth were they planning to do with a spinning table? She didn’t get to ponder on the question long, because Bellatrix lowered her face to hers, ‘sorry I cheated, darling,’ she fake pouted before she pressed her lips against Hermione’s. It was cruel, punishing, domineering, how she forced her tongue past Hermione’s lips in her shock. And Hermione could only blame the oil for how the feel of Bellatrix’s tongue sliding against her own hardened the bud between her legs, each swipe sending more and more pulses to her legs. She bent her legs at the knee, forcing them together to quell the heartbeat.

It was the oil. 

She blamed the oil when she moaned into Bella’s mouth as she took her breasts into her hands squeezing and kneading the flesh in her feminine palms. She blamed the oil when she felt a leather hand lightly grip her ankle, moving it’s way along her shin. She blamed the oil when that hand was joined by more hands, making their way up her legs. One stroking her ankle, one sliding up her calf, one working it’s way up the back of her thigh. She definitely blamed the oil when she let Bellatrix lean over her to suck one of her nipples in between her dark red lips. 

She blamed the oil so much, that when the familiar silky substance ran down her knees, she pretended not to notice the hands gathering it and spreading it over her skin. She had no choice but to enjoy it, with each swipe of the potion against her tanned skin the more her inhibitions relaxed, and the protesting voice in her head was no longer heard. 

She tentatively leaned her head higher, her lips barely a whisper against the mound of pale perfect flesh. Hermione found herself curious, she had never thought she might be interested in women, especially not this one, but the oil began to overtake her senses, and the breasts pressed against Bellatrix’s corset more of a curiosity. The ribbon at the top of Bella’s front lacing corset taunted her, tickling against her cheek, she reached up and started to pull on the black lace. Bellatrix flicked her tongue against Hermione’s nipple in encouragement, repeating the motion while she pinched and rolled her other nipple in her hands. Instinctively Hermione’s hips lifted from the table, forcing one of the hands at her knee to slide up her inner thigh. Her cunt screamed at how close the hand was between her legs, even more so when after the initial shock, it slowly and carefully crept up farther. 

Hermione tugged on the lace, releasing the ribbon before unhooking the busks at the top of her corset. Bellatrix’s breasts were now only covered by her thin black dress. Bellatrix released her grip on her nipple with a pop, ‘Not so fiesty now are you, Mudblood,’ she pulled down the front of her dress, revealing her breasts, much larger than Hermione’s, but still fitting for the small witches frame. Hermione lifted her hands to them and placed them over Bella’s hands, squeezing the soft flesh she found there. 

Bellatrix laughed, ‘eager now are we?’ and leaned her chest down into Hermione’s eager mouth. It’s just a byproduct of the oil, she said to herself as she swirled her tongue around Bellatrix’s nipple, delighting when she heard the woman sigh in pleasure against her own chest. 

The hand creeping up her legs chose this moment to finally meet with its destination. Tentatively a single gloved digit stroked along her slit, and again, she told herself there was still oil on his glove, and none of the slick he spread along her was her own dampness. This time she knew it was a lie. She knew the minute the leather connected with her clit, and she opened her legs wider to accommodate him. He stroked his finger along her clit and it wasn’t long before she ground her hips out against him, the aphrodisiac in her system heightening the sensation. 

‘You don’t even know who he is and you’re letting him touch you. Letting them all touch you.’

She became very conscious of the other hands on her body, snaking up underneath her knees to spread her legs wider. She shocked herself that she let them, but the finger stroking softly along her clit was difficult to resist, it didn’t help that Bellatrix had returned her attention to Hermione’s nipples, latching her mouth around them before pulling her head back over and over sucking the peaks. Hermione groaned and responded by switching to Bella’s other nipple, using her fingers to roll the wet one she had just left. 

‘You’re letting your enemies touch you. I’ve seen into your mind, I know you like it. You would have always liked it, simply afraid to like it. You can’t help it, it’s in your blood.’ 

That was what he had said, but Hermione’s horny brain translated, ‘you like it, Mudblood whore.’ The thought should have repulsed her, his degradation of her character, her lineage. But instead her pussy clenched, just as another hand joined the one at her clit, shoving two fingers harshly inside her. She opened her mouth at the surprise and gasped against the soft flesh of Bellatrix’ breast. She had offered no resistance, she was so wet the fingers had slid home with no effort. She should have been ashamed of that, but instead she started to try and grind against them. It seemed the more wanton she appeared the more the oil would reward her with a fresh batch of sensation. 

Bellatrix unlatched from her breast, and pulled her own from Hermione’s mouth and hands, ‘I didn’t say you could stop,’ she snarled into her face. The hands playing with her body pulled back too, sliding out from her and away from her clit. Hermione couldn’t help but groan, mourning the loss of attention. 

Bellatrix stood up straight, unphased by her bare breasts on display for the entire room of Death Eaters. She revealed her teeth in a perverse smile before she placed her hand on the wooden ledge of the round table and spun it, ‘You’ll be punished for that.’ 

The room span around Hermione, faster this time. She couldn’t latch onto any particular sight, just the vague notion of colours passing her face, black, white, silver, copper, grey. Her body felt strapped to the table as it spun, unable to move her limbs. Slowly the images became more and more clear. The masks were spinning slower and slower in front of her face, before coming to a slow halt in front of one. They stared at each other for a moment, she assumed he must have been a man, he was too tall to be female. This one’s mask was lighter than the others, a pale silver with a simpler design, fine swirls covering the contours of his face, culminating in an almond shape on the forehead. It looked like an octopus, with its tentacles reaching out around his eyes to end around his cheekbones. She stared into the gaps of the mask, looking to see something in his eyes. She saw desire as he finally broke eye contact with her, tracing his grey eyes down her body to become fixed on her breasts. She knew she should have recoiled from him, but the oil made it so his gaze tingled against the pink tips of her nipples. 

‘How fitting,’ Voldemort’s voice broke the spell they shared, ‘The youngest in our ranks gets to try her on first.’ The lineup of Death Eaters behind Voldemort chuckled behind him, and Hermione wondered what joke she had been left out of.

She didn’t get to finish the thought. Something yanked at her hair, pulling her farther down the table towards the Death Eater. Hermione’s head fell limp as the support under her neck failed, she was dangling from the neck down off the table. She looked to the Death Eater, his eyes looked shocked for a moment as he turned to stare at Bellatrix who had moved behind him, and currently had her grip on Hermione’s curls. She nodded to the Death Eater and he replaced her grip in her hair, leather gloves damp against it with the oil, or maybe he was the one playing with her. The thought made the cold air against her sensitive flesh seem colder. 

His free hand moved to his trousers, and he pulled a long thick cock from behind them. Hermione lay face to face with it before he took a small step forward, tapping it against her lips, surprisingly asking for permission. She stuck her tongue out and licked a drop of precum from his pink head. Something in him seemed to relax, and he groaned pushing his hips closer to her, small shallow thrusts rubbing his cock along her tongue.

Hermione tilted her head back further and opened her mouth wide, his next thrust pushing his cock past her lips and into her mouth. He faltered, leaning forward to grip the table with his hands, and Hermione smiled against the cock in her mouth, before sucking on it lightly. He took a moment to gather himself before he began rolling his hips, thrusting his cock now inside her mouth. He was using her mouth, and the worst part was she loved it. 

Hands fell onto her hips, digging into her skin to encourage her to turn over, she let them roll her, trying to keep the cock falling from her mouth. She lay herself flat on her stomach and rose to her hands and knees when the hands at her hips demanded it. She was pulled off the cock she was so happily sucking, and as soon as she had righted herself she returned it to her mouth, sucking the head down towards her throat with a groan, enjoying how she could now hear the Death Eater breathing hard against his mask. 

Something smacked against the flesh of her ass, sending a loud whack through the room. Hermione lunged forward farther onto the man’s cock and choked in surprise when it slammed against the back of her throat. The Death Eaters in the room applauded with low chuckles, but none louder than Bellatrix Lestrange whose laughter came from the same place the slap had, behind her. 

‘I think you were beginning to enjoy that a little too much, little Mudblood,’ she smacked her flesh again, sending a new trickle of pain through Hermione’s body, complete with a new gag, ‘I think you like sucking Death Eater cock a little bit too much,’ another slap and Hermione winced her eyes in pain. It was the first time the oil had begun to fail her, she didn’t want to feel pain. 

It wasn’t until she felt a small feminine hand harshly rub against her slit that she knew. The pleasure coursing through her body far outweighed the sting of her flesh. Bella brought her other hand down once again and Hermione moaned through the pain, the new sensation of the fingers working her clit adding a new dimension to the pleasure. The tension in her stomach began to wind tighter and her eyebrows came together with the pressure. She didn’t know why but she looked up to the Death Eater whose cock was thrusting into her mouth. He looked down at her, his eyes filled with lust and torture.

‘Harder. This is a punishment,’ came a mad female voice from behind her. The eyes apologised to her, before he sank his hands deeper into her hair, grabbing a fistful and forcing himself past her gag reflex. It only hurtled her body closer to its end. She tried to hide how her arms and legs were shaking with the force of containing the tension inside her body, she wasn’t successful. 

‘Do you see how your body betrays you? How ultimately you are nothing more than your own dirty blood.’ Hermione tried her best to look at the Dark Lord without turning her head. The cock in her mouth plunging deep into her throat. He had summoned himself a chair and currently sat smiling upon it like a king on his throne, watching his court jester with his entire court in support behind him. They were watching her, they were watching her get spanked and throat fucked by her enemies, and she watched them watch her making the tension become unbearable. 

‘What’s the matter little Mudblood? Are you going to come?’ Bella’s zoned her attention in on her clit, rubbing circles around the bud at speed. She heard movement behind her and for a moment Bella’s hand was gone, chasing away the orgasm she was so close to. She whined against the cock in her mouth, mourning the loss of her pleasure. 

She wasn’t displeased for long, because the next sensation she felt was Bellatrix’s wild hair against the inside of her thighs, followed by her wild tongue thrashing against her slit. There seemed to be no area that Bella wasn’t intent on exploring, she sucked every fold and sensitive spot inside her mouth and licked it raw. Hermione couldn’t hold the moans and whimpers as her orgasm built again, she eagerly twisted her tongue around the cock in her mouth when he pulled back, too horny to care anymore she just wanted release. The hand in her hair grew tighter, pulling her scalp tight by her curly hair. The pain only mixed with the pleasure and she knew she wouldn’t last. 

Bella released Hermione’s pussy with a pop, continuing her assault with her hands ‘Be a good girl now and come for me. Come with his cock in your throat like the little whore you are.’ She returned her tongue to her and Hermione couldn’t get her words from her head, they were using her like a whore. And she had suppressed it forever but she couldn’t deny that she was loving every minute of it. It must be the oil, it has to be the oil. The alternative was that she was...just enjoying it for enjoyment's sake. That she was the little whore they told her she was. She broke, crying and whining against the cock in her mouth, staring at the group of people gathered to watch her be humiliated in public.

The man pulled his cock from her, letting her moans echo around the room as she came, completely out of control as she spasmed against Bella’s mouth. The woman licked her thoroughly until Hermione started instinctively pulling away from her from the sensitivity. Hermione fell flat on to the table when Bellatrix slid out from under her, wiping her sleeve across her mouth and starting up at her Dark Lord for his approval. 

Hermione looked to the group of Death Eaters, they had fallen out of line, some reclining against the walls and watching her amused. She noticed through her half shut eyes that some of them seemed to be moving. To great horror and equal satisfaction she found they were rubbing their hands against the bulges in the front of their trousers. 

Voldemort seemed completely unphased, he simply nodded his head once at Bellatrix, staring down at her with his face twisted into the closest thing to a smile he could manage, ‘Well done, my most loyal,’ he lifted his chin and stared down at Hermione in disgust, ‘however, I don’t believe our guest is quite finished serving us just yet.’ 

Bellatrix flashed her proudest smile at her Lord, beaming up at him as she raised her hands slowly up to her side, ‘As you wish my Lord.’ She clapped them together and a servant boy appeared through the door carrying a huge jug. Hermione hid her face, trying not to be recognised by anyone in case it got back to the Order. His footsteps retreated farther into the distance and finally she heard the door close. It had brought her back to reality, she was supposed to withhold a better standard than this. 

Something wet landed on her back and she instantly stiffened until the hands pushed at her back to hold her down. She tried to look behind her shoulder and saw one of the Death Eaters holding the jug above her back, pouring more of the clear oil onto her skin. She tried to buck against the hands but they reached everywhere, along her legs around her feet, across her back and down her arms. A hand fisted into her hair and forced her up onto her knees, she was surprised by their strength and didn’t fight. The warm oil landed onto her shoulder and dripped down her breast, a hand appeared at her neck, holding her in place while rubbing it into her pulse. She was drenched in the liquid, and she stared defiantly at Lord Voldemort as the hands rubbed the oil into her body. His snake eyes glowing red back at her. Two hands slithered around her back, rubbing the oil into her breasts pulling her nipples out into points, another hand slid up her front to rub the oil into her folds, and to her complete shock, another hand slipped between her cheeks and caressed the sensitive hole there. Her eyes widened and she struggled in their hold, but the hands held her firm where she was. Lord Voldemort just laughed at her display along with his followers. 

She was forced to stare at them while the oil began to take its effect, more and more she was noticing that more Death Eaters were stroking themselves through their clothes, some had even taken to stroking themselves underneath their trousers while they watched her. Increasingly her breath began to pant, the sensation of so many hands on her at once, with so many eyes on her at once was becoming overwhelming. The hand at her neck tightened, and she knew the oil was in full effect, because she couldn’t help but grind her hips against the hands, hoping for more stimulation not only on her front, but the sensation over her asshole was becoming overwhelmingly nice. Every sensation on her skin was heightened, a simple caress across her thigh was now sending ripples of arousal between her legs. 

The hands retreated back, and she almost cried at the loss. A firm hand pressed at her back and slid her off her knees back down to the table with a thud, she was easily sliding across the surface with the slickness of her skin. She found she didn’t mind it, the arousal in her system was so overwhelming she felt like she could grind against the slick table just to get herself off. She was flipped onto her back, and took no encouragement to spread her legs open. She looked up to see The Death Eater from before, the one who asked permission. He lined himself up with her entrance and began to slowly push himself inside her. She instantly moaned at the feeling of being filled and ground her hips against him, encouraging him to thrust into her. He took the hint, increasing his thrusts into her, forcing a squeal from her throat that was quickly swallowed by Bellatrix’ mouth on hers. 

She released Hermione from the possessive kiss, and whispered by her face, ‘I’ve been awfully unfair to you darling. I’ve tasted you and you have yet to taste me.’ The mad witch climbed onto the table, lifting her dark skirts and sat on Hermione’s chest. She found it hard to breath with the weight of the woman, and fear rose in her chest when she remembered the last time she had this power over her, but the desire coursing through her veins from the oil overcame all else. When the woman pushed herself towards Hermione’s mouth she obediently stuck out her tongue and shoved her face into the woman’s cunt. Bella’s laughter soon turned into moans, she grabbed Hermione’s hair and rubbed herself along her tongue as she got closer. Hermione was surprised by how easy the woman was to bring to orgasm, maybe the oil on Bella’s shins was having a greater effect on her. 

The Death Eater started to thrust into her harder, and she knew it likely wasn’t long before he would lose control either. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him harder against her, she knew it would encourage him to lose his control, just like Bella who was grinding her clit against her tongue. He gripped onto her hips and pulled her against him while he hammered into her harshly, hitting hard against a sensitive spot inside her until she felt her own release approaching. To her surprise another one of the Death Eaters hand’s found its way to her clit, while another stroked her nipple. It was too much, Hermione screamed into Bellatrix’s folds grinding her hips desperately against the cock inside her and the hand at her clitoris. The vibrations from her scream marked the end of the witch above her, she came with an unashamed unfiltered moan which worked its way into laughter as she came down, slowing her grinds to a halt before she finally lifted her leg, and allowed Hermione to breathe properly. 

The Death Eater had slowed his own thrusts, and she took the moment to gather her composure. It didn’t last long. Bellatrix grabbed her by the throat, and leaned down into her face, she licked her long pink tongue along Hermione’s lips in a possessive gesture before she disappeared from Hermione’s vision. 

Hermione actually mourned the loss of the woman, the cock inside her felt good, but it wasn’t enough to get her off, especially now he had slowed regaining his control. She had been so built up that tears sprang to her eyes, the intensity of the pleasure in her body too much now that she had been overdosed with oil. She noticed the two Death Eaters by her side, and dared to reach to pull their robes towards her. 

‘The dirty little Mudblood wants more?’ Bella squealed with laughter from the distance. 

‘Oblige her,’ Lord Voldemort said, letting every hint of his mockery come through his words. 

She didn’t care anymore, she just needed to come. She just needed something. The two Death Eaters looked at each other then to the monster sitting on his throne behind her, before they made their decision. They turned towards her and she saw they were already hard for her stroking themselves in their hands, she bit her lip and wrapped her hands around the base of each of them, replacing their hands with hers. She pumped them up and down and turned her head to her left, looking up into the dark mask above her. It looked a lot like the one from the one fucking her, but it seemed much more elaborate, more swirls and lines and contrasting colours between silver and black. She looked up into his eyes and lay his cock flat against her tongue, the thrusts forcing her tongue up and down his head while she still stroked the other Death Eaters’ cock in her hand. 

‘Wait!’ 

The Death Eater at her feet stopped his thrusts at the booming voice echoing around the room, and more tears of frustration fell from her cheeks- how many times now had she been denied?

‘Remove your masks,’ Lord Voldemort hissed, the venom in his voice delighted at its opportunity to shine.

The Death Eaters stood still, and Hermoine could only guess it was in horror. Maybe it was a lot easier for them to do this to her when she couldn’t see who they were. Her eyes first went to the man between her thighs, as he began to lift the mask she swallowed, suddenly terrified that seeing the man behind the mask could withhold her pleasure more. 

When the mask peeled back she was met with the haughty disapproving face of Draco Malfoy. He licked his lips and pulled them into his most condesecending smile, the kind of smile that insulted you before he even spoke, ‘Always knew you were a fucking filthy thing, Granger.’ Her mouth dried, she had seen Draco Malfoy’s cock. She had choked on his cock, his cock was currently hard inside of her. Draco Malfoy’s.

‘Language, Draco,’ a mocking, overly-aristocratic voice responded to her left. 

Her blood ran cold when she recognised that cold, sneering voice. She looked up to see the owner of the cock currently residing on her tongue was none other than Lucius Malfoy himself, his mask discarded. She pulled back her tongue and turned her head to the other Death Eater. She had expected the worst, but it was worse than what she imagined.

‘Do get on with it, girl,’ Snape’s monotone voice sent chills through her. 

She didn’t know what it was that made her start to slowly stroke her hand along her professor’s cock. She guessed she never had been able to say no to a teacher, especially not him. Her other hand followed suit stroking the other man tentatively while Draco dragged his cock out of her slowly, and carefully sliding it back in. They moved slow, as if any wrong move would jeopardize the peace they had established together. Hermione looked up into Snape’s dark eyes, he was giving her nothing. No indication of what was going on behind the blacks of his eyes. 

She kept his eyes as she tentatively reached out her tongue to touch him. He was a lot bigger than she thought he would be. She tried to channel her old crush on him. She used to crave his praise in class so desperately, tried so hard to catch his attention, until he had made fun of her for being a know it all in front of the class. She had the feeling she could not respond the same way today. 

‘You were plenty keen to use that dirty mouth of yours in my classroom, Miss Granger,’ he said. Pushing himself closer to her and into her mouth, she wrapped her lips around him and moaned, the truce had been broken. 

Lucius took another step closer to her, and she alternated between sucking each of them while Draco had weaponised his thrusts, pumping into her faster and harder than she had ever felt. She pulled the cocks in her hands closer so they almost touched and stuck her tongue out, shaking her head so she was licking both of them. Making smaller space between each swap. 

Lucius buried his hand into her hair, pushing her farther down on his cock during his turn. Snape grabbed her breast and began to knead it in his hand, using the space between his fingers to stimulate her nipple. 

The pressure didn’t take long to return. All she could think about was how wrong it was, everything that was happening to her was wrong, but she loved every minute. Every forced gag from her throat, every moan, every hard pinch at her nipple was intoxicating and the tight knot in her stomach was only getting worse by the cock pistoning in her at the foot of the table. She lifted her legs, letting him in deeper, moaning against Snape’s cock when Draco hit a new pleasure point inside of her. Draco moaned aloud and brought his hand to her clit, ‘sneaky little bitch,’ he grumbled as he furiously rubbed her clit. 

She pulled her mouth off Snape’s cock, ‘Too hard,’ she said before she moved onto Lucius’ swirling her tongue eagerly around him. 

Malfoy pressed even harder against her clit, ‘Do you think I care?!

She tried to move her hips away from his harsh touch but he held her firm. The pain in her clit soon gave way, and was instead replaced by a few seconds of pleasure she barely got to register before her orgasm hit her at full force. The waves hit as she sobbed against the cock in her mouth. She wanted to scream but Lucius shoved his cock into her throat, muffling any sound she could have made. She couldn’t breathe as her pussy spasmed around Draco’s cock, and all she heard was the sound of him cursing, burying himself inside of her as far as he could go. Then she felt the feeling of warmth spreading inside her body, it only made her buck against his hips harder, trying to squeeze every bit of enjoyment from her orgasm.

Eventually Lucius released her from her breathless prison and she took a moment to catch her breath, panting desperately with the man who was now holding onto the table for stability. 

‘Well, Miss Granger, it seems you have been claimed,’ Voldemort announced. She bent her head up to look behind her, and watched as an upside down Lord Voldemort rose from his chair and walked towards her. 

Lucius and Severus made way for him as he arrived at the edge of the table. This was the closest she had ever been from him when she looked up into his skeletal face. He pulled out a collar from his flowing robes, and snapped it quickly around her neck. She lifted her hands to it and found it fastened tight to her throat. She looked up angrily at the thing that used to be Tom Riddle, but he only swung his robes across her face, and slithered his way back towards his still masked Death Eaters, ‘you belong to Draco now.’

‘So this is over?’ she asked his back, barely able to keep her panting under control. 

He turned slowly, his scarlett eyes assessed her for a moment, a small snakish tongue slipped from between his teeth, ‘Hardly. Lucius and Severus have yet to have their fun. You would not leave them unsatisfied?’ 

He asked, but it was not a question. Draco left the table to return with the jar of oil. Hermione accepted her fate, lying on top of the table and let him splash the oil over her, focusing on how it leaked off the table onto the floor. She stared up into the ceiling as the hands descended once more, this time, without the gloves. Her professor gathered the oil at her stomach and massaged them into her hips, while Lucius’ hands kneaded and caressed her breasts. 

She jumped when she felt Snape’s hands slip between her legs, but she found she didn’t protest, she bent her knees, exposing herself to him. It was strange having him so close, in such an intimate place, staring down at her cunt. He massaged the oil along her inner thighs, teasing with how close he would get to her before pulling his hand back. 

Lucius lowered himself and took one of her nipples into his mouth, stroking his tongue across it slowly while he stared her down with his hard grey eyes. She looked down her body at the men currently staring at her, both of them were old enough to be her father, but still her hips began to roll with her desire as the oil set into her senses. 

Snape finally traced his finger along her folds lightly and she bucked up into the touch, begging him for more, ‘foolish girl,’ he snapped at her, pulling his hands back entirely. He reached for the jar of oil and poured it directly onto her pussy, setting it aflame with a pleasurable tingling, it was like a whisper of what she needed to get off. She whined and stared down at him, his cold shark eyes revealing nothing. 

She looked up to the Death Eaters watching her, and saw most of them were openly masturbating watching them, or playing with each other. In the middle of the chaos sat Voldemort himself, with Bellatrix sat astride his lap. She was whispering something in his ear, when he finally nodded, and the smile that overcame the woman’s face was frightening. 

She hopped off the Dark Lord’s lap and turned to smoke in front of him, speeding across the room until she stood beside Snape. She leaned up to get as close to his ear as she could, he leaned down the rest of the way from courtesy. He swallowed and nodded, giving no indication of what the mad witch was planning. Hermione went to flinch when Bellatrix placed herself in between her legs, but calmed when the woman simply massaged her thigh. 

Snape joined Lucius at her head on her other side, and leant down into her ear, kissing her neck and sucking her earlobe into his lips. Bellatrix waited for his distractions before she lifted Hermione’s legs higher up the table exposing her entirely to the witch. She tried to focus on her but Snape twisted her head to him, catching her lips in a kiss, she melted into him and let him sweep his tongue dominantly into her mouth. 

She felt something wet stroke over her asshole and her eyes widened in surprise. She tried to pull away from Snape’s kiss to protest but he grabbed her neck and held her firm. Lucius intensified his assault on her nipple flicking his tongue mercilessly over each one in turn. The wet thing didn’t relent, it kept sweeping along the hole, even as she clenched it away. Hermione tried looking between her legs and saw Bella’s wild hair there. She was licking it, the wet thing was her tongue. As soon as Hermione made the realisation she pressed her tongue harder against it, slipping the very tip inside of her before retreating and swiping her tongue along it. It was so wrong, and yet with each lick the sensation became more than more pleasurable, more and more her clit tingled crying out for attention. 

Once Snape had felt her submission he pulled back from her lips, instead opting to relieve Lucius of one of his charges, and started sucking his own way across her breast. Hermione looked down at the scene before her, Bellatrix rimming her, Mr Malfoy and Snape attached to each of her nipples. They were preparing her, but she didn’t know what for. Bella slipped her tongue even further in this time, and Hermione’s eyes rolled back up into her head. Disgusted with herself for liking it, but even more turned on by it. 

Bellatrix ripped her tongue out of her, and stood up sharply. The Death Eaters at her nipples released, and Hermione wondered what they had planned for her next. She didn’t care, she slammed her legs together in the hope of some sort of relief on her screaming clit. Bellatrix moved to the side to let Snape take her place. He was once more standing at the bottom of her body, staring down at her like she revolted him. Under the influence of the oil it only intensified the feeling, and when he leaned over her and grabbed her shoulders, she let him sit her up. He slid his hands under her ass and lifted her up from the table, she clung to his shoulders as he spun her around and sat on the sturdy table himself. He encouraged her to move up his lap, and lined himself up to her. 

She didn’t wait for him to ask, she sunk down on him and began to grind her hips against him. She looked over his shoulder at the Death Eaters staring at her, and watched as some of them separated into groups, touching and licking each other. It was surreal, like none of this was really happening. She was currently bouncing on her professor’s cock while staring down her enemies who wanked to her. It was all beyond normal. Bellatrix once again walked into view, and leaned over the table to brush a stray curl of Hermione’s from her face, she cupped her cheek and kissed her. Hermione leant into the kiss like she was starved, the oil fully taking over her rational thought. 

The oil had made her forget about Mr Malfoy. So when Snape stilled her hips and she felt something wet press against her asshole once more, she smiled into the air and clutched Snape’s shoulders even tighter, expecting to feel the soft brush of a tongue once again against it. He pushed his tongue into her hole and she ground a little against Snape, enjoying the feeling of him inside her. Lucius’ tongue must have been huge because...it wasn’t his tongue. The realisation came to her mid-thought, he had pushed farther than a tongue possibly could. 

She started to panic when she felt the pain of stretching to accommodate him, it was searing the farther he pushed. Tears started to fall from her eyes, but she found herself unable to move, stuck still between the two bodies. Eventually, Malfoy stopped he must have been entirely inside her now. She gritted her teeth and opened her eyes to see Bellatrix staring back at her amused, biting one of her finger nails in her mouth, ‘You have your school professor in your cunt and your master’s father in your arse. Why, you are a greedy Mudblood.’

She hated that her pussy clenched around Snape when she thought of it, she hated that she loved the idea of being full. There was little to Hermione that could possibly be dirtier than this, yet this oil made her  _ want _ to enjoy it. 

Lucius’ hands travelled their way to her neck, and he held her in position as he started to pull out slightly, and push back in. Her eyes teared up again, and when Snape moved in a short shallow thrust inside of her she noticed something had changed. The pain became tinged with pleasure, and when Lucius tightened his grip on her neck, she moaned. It was the most erotic feeling, caught between these two men, feeling them both move inside her. She began to roll her hips against them , encouraging them to move faster. 

‘Look the whore likes getting her ass fucked!’ Bella screamed through the room, ‘You are a whore aren’t you? You can’t deny it when you have two cocks inside of you.’ She reached out and grabbed Hermione’s cheeks, squeezing them together hard, ‘Say it.’ 

‘I’m a whore,’ she mumbled against Bellatrix’s hold on her face. 

Bella twisted her ear towards her and pulled her eyebrows together in fake confusion, ‘I didn’t hear you.’ 

The pressure was becoming too much, Lucius leant forward pushing her closer into Snape, putting her clit directly in line with his stomach, ‘I’m a whore,’ she repeated louder as a moan raked through her body. She desperately ground her hips harder against the man under her, chasing her pleasure. The side effect was Malfoy and Snape now pushed harder and faster into her holes. She wasn’t going to last long. 

‘Look the little whore is going to come!’ Bella laughed hysterically, joined by the Death Eaters. The sound of their laughter in her ears, mocking her, degrading her while she was completely filled was too much. She threw her head back and let her body break with her. Her eyes flashed white as she was overwhelmed with the pressure of her orgasm, it felt like it was being drawn from her, sucked out from the core of her very being as she squirted onto Snape’s stomach. 

When she finally came down she was back lying on the table, and Snape and Malfoy were stroking their cocks above her, coming onto her chest, her stomach and when some landed on her lips, she reached her tongue over to swipe it off. 

She had came but she felt no more satisfied than she did before, the pulse between her legs was still torture. Her mind had left her long ago, so when more Death Eaters appeared above her, stroking their cocks above her and coming onto her body, she didn’t care, she simply nested her hands between her legs and stroked her clit while they did, smiling. After all, she wasn’t in her right mind. 

‘Do you want to know a secret? Something only you and I know?’ Voldemort’s hiss sounded in her mind, ‘The oil is simply an aphrodisiac….it adds nothing that wasn’t there already.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this ended up super long! I fully let my imagination away with it and had great fun writing this. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed reading this piece of filth I've brought into the world 😂♥️
> 
> Lots of Love, 
> 
> Comfort xxx


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